


Shia LeBeouf

by Kosho



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Major Character Injury, Major Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Tags May Change, Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: You have a case to solve, but you never guessed it would involve Shia LeBeouf.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This actually came about as a result of a conversation I had. Thanks, Karee for supporting my nerdy need to write this out.

You slowly rolled to a stop, reviewing the notes Nick had given her. A new case had shown up, and it fell to you to deal with it. Right up your alley, he said. A lead on all manner of people going missing, but this time you knew the Institute couldn’t possibly have anything to do with it, considering it was a smouldering ruin. The trail led you right to the woods, so you wandered aimlessly on your search for clues. The first grim clues were the sweeping trails of blood spread out over downed trees, through tracks of broken twigs. Following it only confirmed that you were on the right track, bones scattered about through debris piles, bits of flesh still clinging to them. Fresh, from what you could glean by looking closer. Recently killed, no bloatflies or bloodbugs in sight, and the mongrels hadn’t gotten to the waste yet. You squat down, wrinkling your nose while you sift through the dirt trying to find a sign of who it might be, anything to identify the remains, though you already knew it would take a miracle to find. Sighing, you fumble in the pocket of your detective’s coat, grasping for a cigarette and lighter, plotting your next move, exhaling a slow cloud of smoke. You reach up with your other hand, pushing back the hat lazily perched on your head, scratching at your scalp in thought. In the distance, you hear a twig snap, drawing your immediate attention, yet when you looked there was nothing in sight. Someone was out there, perhaps your target, stumbling out into these woods was no accident. It was the kind of place that looked ominous enough to warn people away from exploring. Even raiders didn’t come this way, chem junkies wouldn’t even stop for a desperately needed fix. 

 

The ash grew, curling before falling to the dirt, putting it out when there was little enough left. This wasn’t your first case that had potential to go south, and you didn’t want to be caught unprepared, but you realized all too late that you forgot your gun back at the agency. You could only hope it wouldn’t come to a fight, but you knew deep down it probably would. Sneaking quickly but silently towards the sound you heard, reaching for your phone to let Nick know you were in pursuit of the culprit, but to your dismay, the battery died, no chance for back up now. Just barely still in your peripheral vision, you saw a figure, your brow furrowing in surprised confusion when you noticed who it was. It couldn’t be, could it? No doubt about it, he was a ghoul, but it was absolutely Shia LeBeouf, before the war, you recalled seeing a number of films he was in, it wasn’t a face you would easily forget seeing, despite the drastic change in appearance. What was he doing out here? He hadn’t noticed you, you were sure of it, planning to fall back and come up with a plan, but a quick glance back said otherwise. He was following you, if you had to estimate, about thirty feet back. 

 

He fell to the ground and you were sure that he had the usual jerky reflexes typical to most ferals, until you noticed he was on all fours, rushing towards you. He was gaining ground quickly, and it took a moment to register the need to run, to gain some distance. Running wasn’t exactly your strong suit, so you frantically scanned ahead for your car, but for the life of you, you can’t remember which way you came from, where the car was parked. It was a terrible idea, but you needed to know if he was still tailing you. Shia was close, almost an arm’s length away, this close you noticed there was blood on his face, God, there was blood everywhere! He was no average feral, your next quick look  revealed he had a weapon, a knife. He wasn’t a normal ghoul, but not quite feral either, probably in the throes of madness, but not completely gone yet. Your lungs were on fire and your legs were aching intensely, but you were running for your life, slowing down even a bit wasn’t an option. Even before the war, you knew you had never pushed your body so hard in all your life. He stuck to the shadows, harder to see now, and even though he stopped to grab an arm jutting out of a pile of crumbling bricks, tearing through the skin and what little muscle was there, he was  _ still  _ too fast. 

 

It solved one problem at least, he was definitely the killer, and the reason you couldn’t find more than bones and scraps of flesh was that he was  _ eating _ the bodies. You had no way to tell just how far you ran, or how long it had been save for the fact that you only stopped when the sun had set and you no longer heard the rapid thump that said he was still chasing you. Seizing the chance to stop  and gasp for air, you looked over your shoulder, relief washing over you when you realized you lost him. You decided to give up the chase for now, except you were completely lost, nothing looked even remotely familiar, and the direction you came from was absent from your recollection. Great, stranded in the woods in the dark with a murderer, you were  _ certain _ it couldn’t get any worse for you. Still, not one to tempt fate, you ducked into the dense underbrush, blissfully still largely intact. Stilling your breathing, you crept slowly so as not to rustle the leaves enough to catch his notice, if he was even still near enough to give chase again. In the distance, you notice a cottage, damaged, but stable enough to seek shelter. Perhaps it would be safe to seek shelter in, at least until the sun came up and you could see clearly enough to hunt down your trusty Corvega. There was a light on, maybe someone lived out here after all, and you could get some help, maybe a gun to take him out with, make the area a little safer. Gathering every ounce of stealth you possessed, you drew closer with every passing second, almost there, when a sudden SNAP caught your attention a split second before the sharp, intense pain hit you. You pressed a hand tightly to your mouth, wrangling all your focus to avoid screaming out. Looking down in horror, you realized your leg was caught in a bear trap, and you knew it had shattered the bone in your leg. You struggled to pry it open until your arms felt weak, no amount of effort you could exert would be enough to get it off. The idea horrified you, but if you were making it out of this alive there was only one option. You twisted and bent as best as you could, it was almost a feat of acrobatic proportion, bending to be able to reach below your knee. Thankfully your mouth was too busy tearing into your own leg to howl out the pain it cause, trying your best not to think about how warm and sticky it felt, trying to conjure images of a juicy steak instead. It wasn’t the metallic tang of blood in your mouth, but a perfectly cooked piece of Deathclaw, the best you could remember, since the last actual steak you had was around 210 years ago. It took ages, or at least it felt that way, made easier only by the fact that it had snapped cleanly through the bone, the limb falling away finally. You spat out chunks of muscle and skin, wiping the blood from your mouth on your sleeve. You didn’t care that your coat was dirty and your hand equally so, only that you wanted to get the taste out of your mouth and do your best to forget about it. It was more of a challenge now, limping towards the cottage as quietly as you could manage, finding that hopping was even harder on you than the fucking marathon you ran to escape in the first place. 

 

You reach the doorstep, peeking through the window, taken aback by what you see just inside. Shia LeBeouf is sitting there, sharpening an ax, unaware of your presence. Despite being armed, you decide to take your chances, you can catch him off guard and end his reign of terror right now. Slowly and silently, you open the door, stepping in. You offer silent praise that neither the door nor the floor creaked, and he hadn’t seemed to hear you enter. Leaning against the scattered furniture for support, you wobble towards him, balancing steadily on your leg. Outstretching your arms, your hands flex, fixing around his neck, preparing to strangle the life out of him, your grip firm. He manages to turn towards you when your grip faltered for a moment, pulling a knife on you. His first swipe is clumsy, and you let go to avoid it, squeezing his wrist tightly in an attempt to get the blade from him. You let out a triumphant cry as you disarm him, jabbing it forcefully into his kidney, watching him topple over. You exhale slowly, dropping the knife, eager to get out of the nightmare now. You limp towards the door, back out into the woods, your spiking pulse slowing back down to a steady pace. You won, you’ve beaten Shia LeBeouf, and now all that was left was to find your car and get back to Diamond City. Doctor Sun was a salty bastard, but he was well worth the caps it would take to have him fix up your bloody, oozing stump of a leg. 

 

Sighing, you manage one hop before something solid presses against the back of your head. You were covered in sweat from the unplanned exercise and the stress of your injury, the adrenaline still coursing in your veins enough to keep you numb to the pain. The cold steel felt good, but you knew before you looked that it was definitely a gun. In absolute disbelief now, you see him, Shia LeBeouf, still standing after what you  _ thought _ was a fatal injury. His eyes reflected only death as he stared you down. Turning slowly to face him, it hit you that you know Jiu Jitsu. With that recollection, your arm shoots out, colliding with his chest, managing to lift him just a bit off the ground before slamming him forcefully to the dirt. You grab the ax from his pocket, shaking unsteadily as you try to stand up straight, swinging it down towards him. Blood oozes from your stump leg, a rush of dizziness knocking your attack off target. He rises to his feet, and you swing again, but he dodges every attempt to hit him, parrying to the left of you. Predicting his move, you swing to the right this time, the sharpened edge striking his neck, the force enough to wedge against his vertebra, but it takes more effort to finish the jagged line you began. You manage to chop his head off, decapitating Shia LeBeouf. Not something you ever guessed you’d do with your life, but there’s no way he can spring back from losing his head. His head falls to the ground, spinning, rolling to a stop, your eyes meeting his one last time to make sure, noticing the complete lack of expression on his face. Your strength falters again and you crash to the ground, sunk down on your knees, finally able to catch your breath, gasping deeply like you hadn’t breathed in years, before forcing it all out into a heavy sigh. You’ve beaten Shia LeBeouf, and you know without a doubt that you won’t be tailed back to your car, vaguely thinking you might remember where it’s parked after all. Nick would surely be pleased that you solved the case, and it could be closed and filed away along with your lost leg. You wonder for a moment if you’ll be able to last through the drive back to Diamond City without passing out, but you’ll be damned if you let a missing leg kill you, not after everything you’d been through in the span of a few hours...


End file.
